Flying Solo
by MiraMeraki
Summary: Nathalie has a late-night heart-to-heart with the previous holder of the Peacock Miraculous, as she contemplates her role in the battle to come. (Post-Ladybug)


**Written because Gabenath is a disaster ship, Battle for the Miraculous is a giant iceberg on the horizon, and it's too late to call for a lifeboat.**

"I'm sorry I didn't bring flowers."

A face-to-face meeting with Emilie Agreste was an idea that had persisted idly in the back of Nathalie Sancoeur's mind for weeks, but now, standing alone in front of her sleeping form, her serene face obscured only by the occasional white butterfly that would briefly perch on the glass casing, Nathalie felt unnerved at the sight of her. The longer she stared, the more she could trick herself into seeing the slightest rise and fall of Emilie's chest. Emilie had always been a gifted actress; it was easy to imagine her feigning death as she patiently waited for the magic spell that would break her curse and bring about her happily ever after.

She wanted to tell her they were close. That with Mayura, they could finally tip the scales in their favor. But how long would that last?

Nathalie coughed and pulled her night robe around her, even though the fluffy material could do nothing against the cold that had already settled permanently in her bones. The sound echoed off the high vaulted ceiling of the secret underground tomb, but she trusted that Adrien was asleep by now, and if Gabriel wasn't, then he was most certainly in the middle of a creative frenzy that would take him well into the early hours of the morning.

She really hadn't wanted to move into the Agreste mansion; she had spent over a month resisting Gabriel's offers. She still remembered the previous chef who would mockingly call her 'Mrs. Agreste' when out of earshot, and she didn't need to add more fuel to the rumors that she had slept her way into her position. It was only after she had collapsed on the steps outside her apartment one evening that she conceded it would be safer to stay where someone could monitor her condition.

What bothered her about the whole arrangement, more than the loss of boundaries between her personal and professional lives, was having Gabriel's worried eyes follow her around when he thought she wasn't looking. She knew he wasn't seeing her but his wife in those moments, as he watched the same downward spiral play out yet again. Nathalie wouldn't have been surprised if he were discreetly looking for a new secretary: more and more, he would look at her like she was already dead.

Now, as she gingerly placed a hand on the cool glass coffin, she realized that Emilie was the only person who could truly understand what she was going through. Gabriel might have taken the Peacock Miraculous away from her, but the persistent exhaustion, the coughing fits, and the bouts of vertigo were still there. How had it felt for _her_, Nathalie wondered, when she removed the Peacock Miraculous for the last time, when the coughing didn't stop after several minutes, when her airways….

Nathalie shook her head. _Don't think about that. Focus._ "I don't know if you can actually hear me now," she began. "Maybe it's for the best if you can't. But either way, I thought it would be nice to talk to _somebody_ about Gabriel. If there's one person who knows how it feels to love Gabriel Agreste, I suppose it's you."

Her slippers shuffled nervously across the faux grass. It felt wrong to be here, in this place reserved solely for Gabriel and his wife, but there was little use in turning back now. "I'm not here to apologize for my feelings, because they don't matter, quite frankly. He's tearing apart Paris to bring you back, and I wouldn't change that." She hesitated for a moment. "I suppose there's something comforting about being in love with a man who's that devoted to his wife," she admitted. "Because with love, the one thing more terrifying than the possibility of rejection is the possibility that someone is crazy enough to love you back."

Not wanting to look at Emilie's face for any longer, Nathalie opted to sit down, hug her knees to her chest, and lean her head against the side of the coffin. "Besides, I am not naïve," she insisted, fighting to keep her voice steady. "I am well aware of what the Miraculous is doing to me. I understood the risks when I took it from the vault. The Miraculous is killing me, Emilie," she confessed in a hushed voice, "and if the powers of creation and destruction demand a life to keep the balance…." Nathalie let out a small huff, frustrated with herself for getting emotional. "I don't want you to think of me as some kind of martyr," she said matter-of-factly. "But in life, there are some people who get their happy endings and others who simply do not. And all I know is that Gabriel is a man who deserves his."

Nathalie held out her hand and watched as a butterfly landed on her finger before flitting away into the synthetic bushes, blissfully unaware of the dark magic that would soon flow through its fragile wings. "Gabriel loves you with a single-mindedness that is almost frightening to watch. Please, you must understand that. And it's because of that that I don't think he's thought about what happens after he wins. When you wake up and learn about all the terrible things he's done in order to bring you back." Nathalie sighed. "Believe me, when I took this job as Mr. Agreste's personal assistant, I had no intention of becoming involved in his familial affairs. Adrien looks to me as a mother figure more and more, but it's not a role in which I belong. And it has become increasingly difficult to keep from overstepping boundaries when it comes to your husband. He needs someone by his side, and right now, I'm the only person he can trust. However, that doesn't mean he isn't haunted by you. I have done my best to support your family, but it's not enough. _I'm_ not enough. They _need_ you."

_"You said you were going to stop."_

_"I can't give up, Nathalie. I miss her too much."_

_Silence. Then, her signature response: "I understand, sir."_

Nathalie angrily blinked away the thin wet film forming in her eyes. That was what it boiled down to, wasn't it? Feeling needed. Hawkmoth _needed_ Mayura if they were ever going to beat Ladybug, Chat Noir, and their growing band of miraculous holders. As for Nathalie… yes, she was good at her job, and yes, Gabriel said she was irreplaceable, but at the end of the day, anyone could reply to emails and rattle off itineraries. Truthfully, the best indicator of a job well done came when people were able to forget about her all together.

That's where the two miraculous holders differed, Nathalie thought. Emilie had always come first, both in acting and in love. Never anything less than the leading role in her own fairytale. Never knowing how it felt to work in the shadows, behind the scenes, pining for someone's eyes to shine on her like spotlights.

_I wonder how much you appreciated how many people like me filled in your background every day,_ thought Nathalie as she stood up and adjusted her glasses. _How we so carefully arranged all the invisible strings that held your perfect life together._

She slipped a hand into the pocket of her robe and pulled out the Peacock Miraculous, the one imperfection in Emilie's life which had ultimately proved to be her undoing. "I have two important things to ask of you. First, forgive your husband for what he's done; otherwise, I'll have put myself through this for nothing. And second, do not mistake me as a lovesick fool who threw away her life for the chance of living yours. I am not your understudy. I am not trying to replace you as Adrien's mother or Gabriel's partner. I understand that now. But I have my role to play, just like you, and I would be honored to carry it out until the end."

Then she paused, feeling the weight of the miraculous in her shaking hand. She didn't want to die, after all. Her life was nothing remarkable, but not something she would cast away lightly, either. But she couldn't keep trying to be both Nathalie and Mayura. Gabriel wanted to make that decision for her, but it could only truly be her choice. No matter her choice, she knew that neither woman could be Gabriel's leading lady._ I would never be enough for_ _him_, she told herself sadly.

Still, even an actress in the shadows could have a heroic last act.

Nathalie pinned the miraculous to her chest and watched Duusu materialize in a sphere of blue light. "Oh, Miss Nathalie!" she exclaimed while doing several backflips in the air. "I'm so excited to see you again! Does this mean you're feeling better? I _knew_ Gabriel would take good care of you, oh, it's _soooooo_ roman…"

For the first time since Nathalie had known the kwami, Duusu fell silent as she looked down on her previous owner. "Miss Emilie…?"

Then, the little kwami burst into tears. "Oh, Miss Nathalie, this is why you shouldn't use me!" she blubbered. "Even though it's so much fun, I don't want to hurt you! Just look at what I did to Miss Emilie! Kwamis are supposed to help their owners; I couldn't stand the thought of… of…"

Nathalie let Duusu settle onto her shoulder and dry her tears. How many times had Emilie used the miraculous, was the question that had been burning in the back of Nathalie's mind. How many times before the risk was too great?

But she decided in that moment that it didn't really matter. She wasn't Emilie, and so she would continue to fight until her role (and possibly her life) was complete. Continue to do what she had always done best: work from the shadows.

Then she blinked, and for a second it was Nathalie sealed away in Emilie's coffin, bloodless hands still clutching the miraculous resolutely to her chest.

_The future isn't set in stone,_ she reminded herself chidingly. Unfortunately, compared to her predecessor, she wasn't a very convincing actress.

Shrugging off the vision, she plucked a single rose from the newest bouquet Gabriel had left behind, the perfect charm for creating a new sentimonster. "Come along, Duusu," said Mayura with renewed determination, as she turned her back on the coffin and boldly walked headlong into darkness. "We have lots of work to do."


End file.
